


A Long, Long Time

by QueerSherlockian (Anglophile_Fiend)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/F, Femlock, Nurses, Post-WWII, Sherlock IS a girls name
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 16:33:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1354171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anglophile_Fiend/pseuds/QueerSherlockian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gifted cabaret singer Sherlock in Post-War UK, shines in a tucked away club on the outskirts of London, and tonight she'll meet nurse Joan Watson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Long, Long Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Queertrees](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queertrees/gifts).



> Prompt by queertrees:omg femlock singing in an underground cabaret in 1945 london where she deduces from inside a golden spotlight, in walks army nurse joan watson recently returned from france, they end up sharing a flat draped in silks and cigarette smoke and sequined elbow gloves and every night sherlock sings just for joan
> 
> After this post:[POST](http://queersherlockian.tumblr.com/post/79618776158)  
> Listen to the song referenced here: [SONG](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tsPBNcUw-jA)

 

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Joan called over her shoulder while running a brown leather-gloved hand over a black door, more chipped wood than paint. “This place does not look like the cat’s meow Mika.”  Joan spun back around, and blinked her fair lashes at her even more petite friend. “Why are we even here? Maybe we should leave?”

 

The other girl giggled as she laid a gloved hand on Joan’s shoulder, and squeezed. “Trust me, you will love it here.” Eyes glistening, Mika gave Joan a wide smile. “It’s just a bit of fun, don’t worry so much.” Joan squared her shoulders in silence, and tugged at the hem of her slim taupe jacket.

“I dunno. If admin finds out we went out drinking, we’ll be in big trouble” she fretted.

 

“Joan. I’ve seen twenty whining soldiers yelling at you, while you’re covered in blood and sick, and bossing around senior nurses. You can handle a bit of fun tonight. Come on it won’t kill ya!” Mika moved past her, matching dress-suit rustling softly, and slipped into the dark club without another word.

 

Joan worried her bottom lip for a moment, ran a hand over her perfectly pinned blonde hair, and thought, _Come on Watson. You can do this. You’ve literally put men back together, you deserve a drink_. Decision made, she reached for the grimy handle and entered Wonderland. The foyer was pitch black save for two slivers of light given off by matching bronze sconces. It was an elegant effect, and some of her tension melted away.

 

Stepping through heavy drapes into the cabaret, it appeared the establishments moniker was appropriate, the interior was beautiful and unreal. Even though smoke effused the details, care was evident in every facet of the sumptuous art nouveau decor. The entire space filled with curves, languid fabrics and diffused lighting. Clearly designed with love, or rather, lovers in mind. Most of the petite wooden tables occupied by excessively close couples. Cheeks brushing against one another, as they leaned in to hear intimate whispers over the band playing a rhythmic beat with enthusiasm.

 

Joan caught up to Mika as she was turning from the bar, a pint in each hand.

“It’s about time those gams brought you inside, isn’t it lovely?” Mika asked while striding over to a free table, and plopping herself and the drinks down with a thud. “Any minute now…” she trailed off as a swell of music quieted the crowd.

“What’s going on?” Joan asked looking around as the dim lighting turned even lower. They slipped off their gloves and jackets, and arranged their belongings on top of their purses on the table.

“Shhhh. Shush she’s coming on!” Mika waved a bare hand in Joan’s face, and swiveled her chair to face the stage, hands folded primly in her lap.

 

A golden spotlight flicked on, and slowly descended from the ceiling to reveal a beautiful woman standing at the tall microphone. The crowd began to hoot and holler with abandon, but the black haired woman in her shimmering dress silenced them with a satin and sequin-gloved hand.

 

“Welcome to Wonderland you Dumb Doras.” She scrunched her nose in derision, and shook her tight inky curls with a laugh. “I’m Sherlock. Miss Holmes if you’re naughty. Allow me to introduce the most important people here, to my right, on the piano, is Stan Kenton. And behind us, is his marvelous orchestra. Thanks for coming out boys.”  She said with a wicked smile that didn’t travel to her bright eyes.

 

Beautiful and dark rimmed as they were, Joan couldn’t make out their exact color. All she knew was that her breath had not returned since that woman, Sherlock, was illuminated on stage. Also, her heart might thump right out of her chest if it didn’t calm down soon. She slipped her tongue out, wetting her dry lips, eyes glued to the long lines of Sherlock’s slim figure as she began to sway with the music. Sherlock lifted up her head and began to sing.

 

_Kiss me once, then kiss me twice_

_Then kiss me once again_

_It's been a long, long time_

_Haven't felt like this, my dear_

_Since I can't remember when_

_It's been a long, long time_

Joan had never heard a sound like that before, Sherlock’s voice was so clear, and bright. It had a resonant quality that made Joan clutch at her chest, and she never wanted it to end. Her gaze transfixed on Sherlock’s lush cupid’s bow lips, painted a blood-red, as they formed each delicate word.

 

_You'll never know how many dreams_

_I've dreamed about you_

_Or just how empty they all seemed without you_

_So kiss me once, then kiss me twice_

_Then kiss me once again_

_It's been a long, long time_

 

She felt herself leaning towards the stage, as Sherlock paused to allow the big band to star for a moment. Sherlock peered into the crowd, her eyes met Joan’s icy blue ones, and she gave the first genuine smile Joan had seen from the singer. Joan gulped hard, and steeled herself from running up to the stage and... _what? What would I do_? She thought, _what would I do if I had that woman alone? What if_...Joan’s ruminations interrupted by a haunting croon, as Sherlock took up the song again.

 

_Ah, kiss me once, then kiss me twice_

_Then kiss me once again_

_It's been a long time_

_Haven't felt like this my dear_

_Since I can't remember when_

_It's been a long, long time_

 

Sherlock drew out the final lyric with a cool passion, until every last note had been wrung from her pale body. Then she gave another dazzling, yet fake, smile to the crowd, and the band finished the song. When the final trumpet faded out, the audience leapt to their feet yelling, whistling and clapping with glee. Mika turned to Joan, with a knowing look.

“Hate to say it, but I must. Told ya so!” She shouted over the din of noise as Sherlock bowed, and strolled off stage, roses flung at her from all directions. Moments later the band took up a new instrumental set, and everyone began to sit back down, or head to the bar for refills.

 

Joan took her seat. “Yes, well, that was...er...spectacular. Do you, um, know her?”

“Miss Holmes, yep. She lives in a flat nearby, we ran into each other a few of times, and she told me about this place. She knows it’s not easy for gals like us.”

“Gals like what? Nurses?” Joan queried, before taking a long swig of her pint.

“No, homosexuals.” Mika replied resolutely, and Joan almost choked on her drink.

She struggled to clear her throat, “This is a... bar for perverts?”

“Oh relax, the war’s over. This is London! And this club is only for women. Joan, and here women can be with other women- without fear.”

“But there’s a man and women kissing right over there. Explain that Mika.”

“Well for starters, that’s not a man.” She points to a couple at a nearby table, “and neither are those too. Seriously, everyone here, except the band, is a woman Joan. It’s a sapphic club. And the sooner you accept that we all love who we love, the better your life will be”

“I’m sorry? I’m not...a h-...that.”

“Well, dear friend. I am. And by the way you were ogling Sherlock, I think you might be as well.” Mika announced before sipping her beer.

 

“I wasn’t ogling! She’s really talented, I just appreciate art.”

“Fine. Whatever you say, but I saw the way she smiled at you Joan.”

Joan’s eyes went wide, and her tongue peeked out again. “H-How was that?” She tried to sound casual, but it came out with an obvious squeak.

“Like you were edible.”

Joan swallowed hard, and balled her hands into fists with a grunt, but didn’t speak.

“Joan darling, listen, I am your friend. And while I don’t know everything about you, I know this, if you don’t talk to her, you’ll regret it. She’s over at the bar, I’ll introduce you two, okay?”

“No. No, I can do this alone.”

“Then go ask if she wants a drink.”

“What? I don’t buy drinks for people, that’s not me. I can’t do that. I-” Joan turned to face the bar and saw Sherlock sitting on a tall stool. Her stocking legs crossed, revealing the unmistakable view of a black lacy garter, and all Joan’s arguments disappeared. “You sure you’ll be alright by yourself for a moment?”

 

Mika turned towards one of the women who Joan had falsely assumed was a man, “I don’t think I’ll be alone for long.” She batted her eyelashes in the woman’s direction and shifted in her seat. “Now go, before people think we’re together.”

Joan rolled her eyes, but got up with her pint, and strode right over to Sherlock, catching her in mid-laugh.

 

“Oh Grace you are such an idiot.” Sherlock spoke to the silver-haired bartender, and Joan paused at the timbre, her throat constricting as all the air seemed to vanish from the room. She had always appreciated beauty, but everything about Sherlock made her heart ache.

 

“Hello there, wonderful performance, your voice is magnificent, I was wondering if could I buy you a drink?” Joan spoke with a rushed and breathless voice. She clenched and unclenched her tiny hands with unease while waiting for a response. Sherlock narrowed her gaze at the blonde, as if she could see right through to her very soul, and nodded.

Sherlock turned back to the lovely, but weary faced bartender,  “Vodka martini, extra extra dirty” she said with a single raised eyebrow, “on blondie over here.” Sherlock jerked a thumb in Joan’s direction, and then motioned to the empty stool to her right, and Joan hopped up onto it and placed her glass on the bar.

“Have you been singing long?” Joan asked, stress leaking into her voice causing it to waver.

“My whole life. Mummy always said, I came out of the womb singing.”

Joan chuckled and relaxed a bit, “That’s adorable. I was never much for the arts, but I appreciate them immensely.”

“Hmm. I’d wager there isn’t much time for making art when you’re stitching up war-torn heroes day in and day out.” Sherlock intoned without inflection.

“What? How did you know what I do?” Joan asked with obvious shock.

 

“I see things.” Sherlock continued, “Those observations lead to conclusions, and that is why I know, that not only are you a nurse, but you were one during wartime. You genuinely care about others, and crave excitement which is why you are continuing in the profession here in London. This is your first time in this place, and you’ve never had intimate relations with anyone, but you’d like to kiss me. I think you should go with that impulse, it would be welcomed.”    

 

Joan was speechless, but without giving it an iota of thought she closed her eyes, and leaned into Sherlock’s space. Sherlock copied her movements and her lips lightly touched Joan’s pale pink ones. It was quick and dry, they bumped noses, but they both thought it was perfection. Joan pulled back, but only a little, and the two shared a breath. Joan waited for a sign of protest, but none was given. She reached a hand up to cup Sherlock’s face and angled her own head to dip back in for a deeper kiss.

 

They pressed more firmly this time, and Sherlock hummed as she sucked on Joan’s bottom lip. The lightning bolt of want coursed through their bodies, and in response Sherlock nipped at Joan, causing her to gasp and part her lips further, before pulling back abruptly when she realized that she was kissing someone. Not just anyone, but another woman. Joan gasped for air, as she’d been holding her breath for the duration of the kiss. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I’ll just pay and leave you alone.” Joan turned to go get her purse, but Sherlock whipped out a strong hand to her forearm.

 

“I said that it would be welcomed, and it was. In fact, if you always react so passionately, I would desire to share much more than a mere kiss.”  
“Uh...I...well you see. I’m not...gay Sherlock.” Joan lowered her voice.

“Darling. You are in a safe place. It’s fine. What’s your name little Girl Scout?”

“Ha ha very funny, I’ll have you know that I was a girl scout and I loved it. And my name is Joan. Nice to meet you Sherlock.”

“The pleasure is truly all mine Joan.”


End file.
